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For a moment, she met his intense gaze and everything inside her stopped. Held. Even time seemed to slow.
Then her orgasm crashed over her, her feminine muscles contracting and releasing in lush spasms that seemed to shake her whole body. As if from far away, she felt Drake tensing, every part of him going taut while she convulsed through the sweetness of her release. And then he was right there with her, his shout of satisfaction making her thighs clamp him tighter.
Bliss.
There was no other word for the sensual perfection of the moment, and Fleur let it fill her up as she slumped against him, his shoulder anchoring her where she rested her forehead for long minutes afterward.
Slowly, reason returned. It was almost disorienting to come back to the guest bedroom in the restored barn, to recognize how completely she’d lost her senses to this man and what they’d shared. She remembered how it had been the same way with him the first time, and she’d had to ask for a reprieve in discussing what their relationship meant.
And here she was again, still not ready to talk to him about that. Even though now, she feared she understood all too well what she was feeling.
Somehow, despite all her best intentions, she’d fallen in love with Drake Alexander.
Tensing at the realization, she wondered if she’d be able to hide it from him. She had to, of course. Drake hadn’t even wanted her to stay in Catamount when she’d first told him about her wish to remain here.
His new idea of trying to buy the lands while she and her sisters kept the house hadn’t been formed with any hope of having a relationship with her, either. He’d just wanted to fulfill his father’s wishes.
“Hey.” Drake shifted beneath her, his shoulder moving in a way that made her straighten to face him. “Everything okay?”
No. She was in complete and utter crisis.
She was in love.
But she swallowed down the unwise thoughts and forced a smile.
“That was amazing.” She settled on a true statement that would have to do for now. “I was just trying to recover my senses.”
For a moment, his dark eyes searched hers, as if he could tell there was more at work than what she’d confessed. But in the end, he nodded.
“Me, too. But I’m still going to make you dinner.” He stroked one hand through her hair, her braid having fallen out at some point without her even realizing. He sifted through the waves now, gently untangling the strands. “You’ll feel good as new after that.”
Fleur wasn’t so sure about that, but until she could contemplate her next move, she just reached for her clothes. She needed some kind of barrier between them before her feelings became all too apparent.
Something had shifted between them.
Drake could feel their equilibrium was all off-balance even though they shared a nice meal. His steaks had turned out perfectly, the side dishes simple but well cooked. And while he knew that Fleur was a professional chef, he didn’t think the food had been that much of a disappointment.
If anything, she’d seemed genuinely pleased that he’d gone to the effort of cooking for her.
No, there was something else brewing between them. As he finished putting away the leftovers in the double-sized refrigerator, he stole a glance at Fleur where she wiped down the white quartz countertop where they’d eaten.
“I appreciate you letting me use this kitchen as a home base for catering the wedding,” she remarked as she walked toward him. She rinsed out the dishcloth before squeezing out the excess water and draping it over the divider between the stainless steel sinks. “It’s so roomy, and the appliances are a caterer’s dream.”
She ran a finger over the knobs at the industrial-sized gas stove when her cell phone chimed. Hesitating, she glanced his way.
“Feel free to take that,” he encouraged her as he closed the refrigerator door. “I can step into the next room if you need privacy.”
Withdrawing her phone from her pocket, she checked the screen. “No need. It’s Jessamyn.”
Fleur lowered herself into one of the counter stools at the island, where they’d eaten.
“Hello?” she answered the call, her gray eyes flicking to his while Jessamyn spoke for a minute.
For a moment, he wondered if her sister was calling with good news for them both—that she liked the idea of selling Drake the Crooked Elm Ranch acreage while the Barclay sisters kept the house.
But as he moved closer to the island to take a seat beside Fleur, he could tell that it wasn’t good news. At first, a line appeared between her eyebrows, a confused furrow. But then, as her sister continued to speak, her jaw went slack with surprise.
“Are you serious?” Her breathing quickened as she shot up out of her seat. She appeared agitated as she paced around the island. “Can Dad even do that?”
